Page 105 of The Lover's Eye
“My husband is so loyal to you—or perhaps has been made to believe he is so indebted to you—that he did not speak a word of your unfaithfulness.I discovered it for myself.You may as well confess now.”
When he stared at her blankly, Isobel continued.“You had this necklace commissioned with a miniature of your own eye.If my guess is correct, Marriane did not want it, and that is how you ended up giving it to your mistress.”
Pemberton clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together.“Sure I gave Aurelia the damned necklace, but that doesn’t make it any of your bus—”
“Aurelia?”
All three of them paused, turning toward the half-open drawing room door.Marriane stood there, her eyes misty.One hand lay on the door for support, and the other encircled her lower stomach, where a faint bump had begun to show.
Isobel’s ire melted for a moment, and she hurried to her sister’s side and held her by the arms.“I am so sorry.I am so, awfully sorry.But I cannot keep this man’s vile secrets for him.”
“Vile?”Pemberton had the audacity to sound wounded.
Marriane looked beyond her sister, staring at her husband.“Are there any others?”Her voice was featherlight.
Pemberton’s face drew into an expressionless mask, and he folded his hands before him.“No.So, you see,” he threw a cutting glance at Isobel, “it has been over for nearly a twelvemonth.”
Marriane wavered on her feet, her eyes going unfocused.Isobel fastened her grip more tightly.“Come.You must sit.”
Marriane made a weak attempt to step further into the room, but her knees buckled, and she began to collapse backward.Pemberton was at her side instantaneously, swooping her into his arms just as she lost consciousness.
“Trevelyan,” he hollered, heaving Marriane up against himself and racing out of the room.“Send for Dr.Dunn at once!”
Isobel stayed on Pemberton’s heels as he carried Marriane to her bedchamber and laid her on the bed with excessive gentleness.His breathing was ragged, and he bustled about the room attending to useless tasks: opening the window a crack, drawing back the bed curtains, soaking a cloth in a basin of cool water and pressing it to his wife’s cheeks.
“Wake now, Marriane,” he whispered, clasping her face between trembling hands.When her heavily lidded eyes remained closed, he turned to Isobel, who was opening every drawer in search of smelling salts.“Damn you!Damn you for telling her!”
She did not react to his barbs, but bustled over with a vinaigrette, popping the silver lid and wafting the strong scent beneath Marriane’s nose.She and Pemberton watched rigidly, praying for any response from the ashen, sweat-cooled face.
At length, Marriane sputtered and coughed, sucking in breaths of the cool air wafting in from the open window.She did not open her eyes, but raised a hand to her temple and sank more deeply into the pillows.The posture of both her onlookers eased a measure.
“Damnyoufor doing this to her,” Isobel spat in Pemberton’s ear.“And you may wait for the doctor below.”
♦
By the time Dr.Dunn arrived, Marriane was sitting up in bed and had gotten down two tepid cups of tea at her sister’s insistence.She confessed to some aching in her belly, but it was plain to everyone that her primary ailment was borne of worry and immense stress.
Ignoring the doctor’s wary gaze, Isobel stayed with her sister for the duration of his examination, sharing in Marriane’s breath of relief when he assured them of the baby’s well-being.
“I would like you to bring Martin up,” Marriane said, squeezing Isobel’s hand after the doctor left the room.“And Trevelyan, too.”
“Dearest, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Marriane shook her head, her eyes welling with tears.“This has troubled me long enough, Isobel.I must know the whole of it if I am to ever move past it.”
With great hesitance, Isobel obeyed the orders.Pemberton kept a constant hold on Marriane’s hand once he was in the room, plying her with questions about her health as though he didn’t believe Dr.Dunn’s favorable report.Isobel and Giles removed themselves a distance from the bed and waited patiently for Marriane’s questions.
“I knew there was someone, Martin,” she began, her mouth twisting as though she’d tasted something bitter.“I have driven myself mad over it.I … I spend every moment that you are gone from this house in the greatest distress, knowing you are with another, and …” Marriane swallowed, squeezing her eyes closed.“You mean to say it was Aurelia, and she has been dead all this time?”
“You knew?”A swallow fought against the tight folds of Pemberton’s cravat.
“Yes,” Marriane said, drawing in a tremendous breath.“Though I hadn’t the faintest idea who.”
Her questions came slowly, with long intermissions that frightened everyone for her health, but Marriane insisted they remain shut in her room until she was satisfied of the full truth.
The day Aurelia died, Pemberton had called at Cambo House.Finch showed him into the library to await Giles’s return from the village, and his boredom set him to walking around the room, examining books—and the papers on the desk.It took considerable restraint for Isobel to not interrupt his story and scold him; the man had no shame pilfering through the private correspondence of others.
What he found was a bill from the most exclusive modiste in Newcastle.Aurelia had commissioned several winter garments be made—silk gowns and redingotes of wool and velvet—but there was no alteration in the measurements listed.Pemberton knew that Aurelia would be entering her confinement during the winter months, and would’ve had need to increase the size of her clothes to accommodate her growing belly.
